Melancholy Kaleidescope | PJO

Ch. 15: It's Charon, Not Chiron

It was nearing midnight when they got to DOA Recording Studios. The brightly lit lobby full of people contrasted the darkness of the outside world. Behind the security desk sat a tough looking guard with sunglasses and an earpiece.

"Only douchebags wear sunglasses inside," Jinora muttered, which earned her a few side glances from her friends. Didn't matter. She stuck by what she said.

"Okay," Percy said. "You remember the plan?"

"The plan," Grover gulped. "Yeah. I love the plan."

Annabeth shifted nervously. "What happens if the plan doesn't work?"

Percy kept his gaze forward. "Don't think negative."

Annabeth huffed. "Right. We're entering the Land of the Dead, and I shouldn't think negative."

Percy pulled the four pearls out of his pocket and shifted them in the palm of his hand. They didn't seem like a solid backup if things didn't go as planned in the Underworld.

Regret flashed over Annabeth's face and she put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Percy. You're right, we'll make it. It'll be fine."

She nudged Grover and shot a look over at Jinora.

"Oh, right," Grover chimed in, "We got this far. We'll find the master bolt and save your mom. No problem."

Annabeth's stare only grew more intense as Jinora remained silent. It took a moment for the raven-haired girl to catch on to its meaning.

"Oh! Yeah, I have complete faith that things will go as planned."

Percy looked at them gratefully, even if he knew they were mostly just saying that to make him feel better. This was his plan, after all, and no plan was ever full-proof. The three of them had just nearly got stretched to death and were still following his lead on this quest, trying to keep up a brave face and make him feel better.

He slipped the pearls back into his pocket and said, "Let's whoop some Underworld butt."

They stood from their crouched positions and walked through the front doors of the DOA lobby. Music played softly through hidden speakers. Jinora looked around at the steel gray carpet and walls. That coupled with the sterile smell reminded Jinora of the one doctor's appointment she could remember having before coming to camp. Every seat on the black leather furniture was occupied by the spirit of people who had passed in seemingly all time periods she knew about. They seemed to be as solid as any living person that Jinora had ever met as long as she looked at them out of the corner of her eye. If she looked directly at them, they were transparent. Nobody moved, talked, or did much of anything except wait for their number to be called for the elevator.

At the head of the lobby was a security guard's desk that was raised up like a podium, so they had to look up more at the guy sitting behind it than they normally would.

The man was a tall and elegant dark-skinned man, a similar shade to Annabeth, and had bleach-blond hair that was shaved military style. He wore tortoiseshell shades and a silk Italian suit that matched his hair with a black rose pinned to his lapel under his silver name tag.

Percy read the name tag then looked up at him in bewilderment. "Your name is Chiron?"

The man sneered and leaned across the desk. The only thing that any of them could see in his sunglasses was their own reflection, but his sweet and cold smile told them everything they needed to know. He spoke in an accent that sounded English, but as if he had learned English as a second language. "What a precious young lad. Tell me, mate. Do I look like a centaur to you?"